Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Freshman Follies
by Dusty Secrets
Summary: Greg Heffley is starting high school. Will it be a cool new adventure for his somewhat suckish life, or will it be the worst thing imaginable?
1. Tuesday-August 27th

Tuesday

Greg here, with some unsatisfactory news. This is my last week of summer vacation before I am to report back to school. The really bad part of all of this: I am starting High School…

Yup, I am nerve wracked to say the least. I feel this overwhelming urge to pee my pants whenever I think about my upcoming first day. Middle school was bad enough. High school will really be debilitating...I am scared.

Huh. Let me talk about my very eventful summer before going back to the uncomfortable subject of the start of my final four years of general education…

We were released after our final exam on June 10th a couple months ago. A couple weeks earlier, my big brother, Rodrick, graduated high school, or at least, he was supposed to. The ceremony was pretty boring, until he gave his speech, that is…

"_Ah, these past 12 years really have been something. Well, a bitch for the most part" *We the audience gasp at his profanity* "Christ, what a waste! I mean, now what? College? HA! Please! I'm gonna be a frickin' rock star! WOOOH!" _

Mom was pale as ever, and dad was red as ever, consumed with fury and disbelief. Manny clapped our very proud and drunk brother on, and Rodrick's best friend from his band, the Loded Diper,Ward, was also drunkenly cheering on his buddy from the third row. We were in the fifth row. I face-palmed and knew deep down in my heart the Rodrick would REALLY be in for it now, and boy, was he. Despite the fact that he had technically been considered a high school student, his diploma was withheld and he was given a summer's worth of detention, which he declined by making a huge mistake, at least, on his part. He dropped out of school, now preventing him from EVER achieving his high school degree, unless he goes on and gets his GED later on in life. As of now, I think Rodrick's gonna be a big LOWLIFE, just like Ward.

Anyways, once Rodrick had cancelled out his education all together, mom was _flabbergasted_. That's a word I heard on an episode of Zoey 101, when I once reluctantly watched it with my odd friend, Rowley, who enjoys most of the girly shows on Teen Nick and Nickelodeon…

So, after mom had a strenuous talk with Rodrick's very redundant and careless decision, he decided to take things into his own hands and move a few miles out into an apartment with Ward.

Once that occurred, I became VERY anxious for my brother's hasty decision. Ward was not a responsible guy, at all. He was dirty, provocative and pretty dumb in general.

But a week before Rodrick's graduation, he held a big party at our house while mom and dad were at an overnight spa while Manny was staying at my grandma's house for the time being. Mom and dad had made it very clear that we were not to throw any parties, cos the last time Rodrick did there was a huge mess everywhere. He hadn't done a well job of cleaning at all, and worst of all, there were DRUGS present, and booze… Of course I had none...I was locked in my room for the whole party.

He was heavily grounded, and 600 mom bucks of his were taken away. I was punished too for some unjust reason. I had 300 mom bucks taken away… huh.

Once mom and dad left for their luxurious spa treatment, Rodrick shoved me harshly against the wall and declared a very menacing threat.

"If you dare even think about telling mom and dad about this, I will KILL you, you little shit!"

I nodded understandingly, and did not ponder being a tattle tale for a split second. Rodrick left to buy some party supplies, while I had the assignment of gathering food utensils and chairs. I felt like a freaking slave. Why couldn't I have a party for me? Why did Rodrick rule my life? I had no time to question those questions. I had to get to work.

I have to go now, because Manny just knocked over a large display of mom's old china, and I have to help clean it all up while mom cries in the other room and Dad mumbles curses to himself...FML


	2. Wednesday-August 28th

Wednesday

Ugh...okay. So I'm just gonna continue with what I was talking about yesterday. Rodrick returned back from the store with bags of chips, pop, bread, salami, and...BEER?

"Rodrick! W-where...h-how did you get...alcohol?!" I stammered in complete disbelief. He was just 18, so he wasn't legally old enough to purchase beer, or drink it. He laughed at how shocked and *innocent* I was acting.

"Ha, ha, fake ID little bro." He cracked a bottle open for himself and chugged while felt on the verge of having a panic attack.

"Well, where did you get a fake ID?" I asked while crossing my arms in slight jealousy.

" *Slurp* None of your damn business," he remarked then went on to set up the party. I guessed that his older friend, Ward, helped him get it. I think Ward is in his mid-thirties.

As I stood like a dork in disbelief, Rodrick playfully tossed a bottle at me, but I missed the catch and it landed below me on the carpet, luckily not cracking.

"PSSH… What a klutz…" he teased, then instructed me to get the cooler out of the garage. I sighed and went on to do so. I was nervous for this party. All these high school pre-graduates would be attending, maybe along with some 11th graders and older people. I'm just 14, and somewhat uncool, although I hate admitting it. Hmm, maybe just one beer wouldn't hurt, despite all those anti-drug and alcohol campaigns and assemblies at school telling me otherwise.

By 8:30, the TV was set to the MTV channel, the cooler was open with plenty of soda cans and beer inside, there was bread for sandwiches set on the kitchen counter, and last but not least...he had a few bongs set out. Huh...this was gonna be a long night…

So people started showing up at around 9. I sat awkwardly on the couch. People who saw me giggled for a few seconds or waved politely, then moved on. My age estimate was correct. Mostly high schoolers and some middle aged junkies. I briefly contemplated trying a sip of Coors from the cooler, just ONE sip...but, I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

I must have been a bored wreck on the couch for at least an hour before a pretty blond girl came and sat next to me, beer in hand and a sweet smile on her face. I immediately tensed up, and became very nervous.

"Hi," she said. I glanced over and met her eyes. I knew this girl. It was Holly Hill's older sister, Heather. She was graduating with my brother that following week.

"H-h-hi," I mumbled shyly, as she giggled.

"You must be Rod's little brother," she said, while I couldn't control my shaking.

"Greg, right?"

"Y-yeah. Does he talk about me?" I asked, actually honored. I felt that maybe Rodrick did care about me, since his friends seemed to know who I am. That positivity melted when she frowned and became a bit more quiet.

"Em, oh, yeah...he's uh, mentioned you. But it's not really anything worth repeating…"

Great. Rodrick had been bad mouthing me to all of his friends...I should have known.

Suddenly, Heather patted my shoulder encouragingly.

"Don't worry about it. We should be having fun!" She stood up and grabbed my shaking hand. "Wanna dance?"

Before I had the chance to give a stuttered "yes," she pulled me up and the next thing I knew I was on the 'dance floor' or in other words, the open area of the living room.

Maroon 5's song, 'One more night' was playing, and I was blushing like a tomato in my grandma's garden. She motioned me to rest my nervous hands on her hips, so I did so. It was actually nice. I was having fun. All the worry that had been consuming me for the past hour was going down the drain. I smile and gave Heather a playful twirl around. She giggled and stumbled, just a bit tipsy.

"Wow Greg! Smooth moves! Ha ha," she giggled, while I felt my stomach flip with pride.

"Th-thanks," I mumbled, no longer regretting this party, but praising it.

After a few more songs played, I was tapped on the shoulder roughly. I turned around to face my brother, looking aggravated and distraught.

"U-uh...Rodrick, I-"

"Come with me," he mustered, then grasped my right wrist tightly and led me to the basement doorway.

"Rodrick, what is i-"

"Go downstairs and bring up a few more chairs," he instructed. Before I could protest, he pushed me through the dark doorway and slammed the door shut. I sighed and decided to get the chairs, then I could dance with Heather again. I stepped down into the dimly lit downstairs area and went into our supply room. There were no more chairs.

_What a dummy. He's already brought up all the chairs…_ I sighed, then made my way back up the stairs. I turned the doorknob, only to find it stuck. I gave it another turn, again with no avail.

_NO! Oh, God, NO! He didn't!_

I fiercely turned the knob back and forth and put all my weight against the door, not moving it a budge. I went at it for about five minutes. I angrily sighed and took a seat on the step. That bastard had locked it.

I couldn't dance with that sweet, hot blond girl any longer. I moped on the step for another ten minutes. I then decided to fight for my right to party.

I threw myself against the door and yelled, "RODRICK! ROOOODRIIIIICK! Let me out!" I continuously banged on the door, keeping my force and momentum at 110%.

The music outside was too loud. No one replied and no one tried to help me. I gave up after another fifteen minutes and went back down the stairs. I'd just realized that I hadn't been in Rodrick's room in the past four years, and his room was down there.

I mischievously rubbed my hands together and went into his room, which he had evidently been left unlocked. Let's just say that his room's appearance had undergone a drastic change in the past four years. It went from posters of Green Day and Superman to Metallica, Eminem and naked girls (which I couldn't really remove my eyes from).

He room was messy with crumpled papers with song lyrics, (probably from his band) and bottles that formerly contained alcoholic fluids. His clothes hamper was overflowing and the sheets on his bed were wrinkled and hanging off the edge. To top everything off, I took note of like a dozen condom wrappers on top of his dresser.

His room fascinated me to be honest. It was nothing like my simple room, with manga comics and Dr. Who posters (my favorite show). No, Rodrick was cool. He had it all. He was pure junkie. He almost leveled up to his loser of a friend, Ward. Huh...But WAIT!

I spotted a journal of some sort on his desk that was cluttered with gum wrappers and cigarette butts. I fled over to it and got ahold of this mysterious book. It was titled: DIARY: of Rockin' Rodrick. It was the same kind of journal that I use. I assumed that he must've gotten it from mom just like me. Maybe he also needed to vent to something...like myself.

I opened the journal up to the first page, which he had written on about five months earlier. Here was its contents:

_December 13th_

_So Ma got me this book I can like vent all my shit in. Thank Christ. This is just what I freakin' need after all the Bullshit I've got to go through._

_So today, I was playing in my band when Ward suddenly dropped the guitar to the ground and sprinted for the shitter. This has been the fifth time this week he's had the runs. So the boys and I waited like twenty minutes for him to hurry his fat ass up. I finally got up and went to bang on the damn door._

_"What the fuck, dude? This is your fourth day in a freakin' row! Don't tell me your on another ice cream binge! You know your frickin' lactose intolerant dude!"_

_"Nah nah man. I'm just sick. *Farts loudly and longly* UGH."_

_So he was in there for another ten minutes before he wallowed out looking relaxed yet pale with TP on the bottom of his shoes and the scent of shit._

_"AHH, sorry dudes. It must be from those leftover marijuana brownies that I got from Scruffs. Must a been bad or sumtin."_

_I guess his retarded ass didn't have enough sense to stop munching on the damn things since his bowels aren't taking kindly to it...dumb ass._

_In other words, I broke it off with Chelsea today since she wouldn't put-out._

_What can I say? Touché~_

I slowly closed the book and took all of that in. Wow. He was a freaking senior in high school and managed to spell 'you're' wrong. I was a middle schooler and even I spelled it correctly, most of the time…

I held on to the book so I could get the dirt on Rodrick later for locking me down there. I could show everyone at school his little secrets…

I rested on his unkempt bed for the next nine hours until about 7 the next morning. I heard silence, and assumed that everyone went home. I grabbed Rodrick's diary and headed up the stairs. I took in a deep breath and slowly put my hand on the knob and turned. Dammit. It was still locked.

I assumed that Rodrick was off passed out somewhere in the house due to extreme intoxication. The careless idiot. Well, I'd had it with hanging around down there, and I had to pee, and the bathroom was upstairs by my room.

I trotted back down the stairs and then sprinted upwards, preparing to give the door a forceful head-butt. I was about to crash into the door, but it was suddenly swung open. My momentum was too exhilarated to slow down so I ran through the door right out into the living room. I stumbled and then the next thing I knew I was thrown smack dab right into our TV.

It immediately crashed to the floor...shattering into large pieces.


	3. Thursday- August 29th

Thursday

I froze. I couldn't believe what I just did. There was our 40 inch widescreen, now a pile of broken glass and wiring on the floor.

My urge to pee had diminished.

No, I didn't pee my pants, I just no longer had to go. Just in case you were wondering…

Rodrick was more aggravated than I'd ever seen him before…

"YOU LITTLE SHIT! OH MY GOD!" he yelled as he sprinted over and gasped at the fallen apart our $750.00 TV that we had just purchased over a year earlier.

Rodrick shoved me to ground and gave a good and well-deserved kick. I yelped out in pain.

"You dick! What the hell are we supposed to do?! Ma and dad are gonna be home in less than 3 hours!" Inside, I was panicking just as much as him.

"I-I-I don't know," was all I could muster back, as I was lying an aching mess on the floor. The urge to pee came back when a terrible vengeance. Before Rodrick had the chance to swing his leg at my for a third time, a stood up and sprinted for the toilet.

"HEY! Get back here!" he yelled as I slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it.

After doing my business, I sat in the tub and moped. What was I going to do? Of course Rodrick would blame me, not to mention I had been the one to actually screw up this time.

Oh man, I _really _did it this time…

After twenty minutes of sulking, I hatched an idea. I remembered that Rodrick had a duplicate TV in his room downstairs that he had gotten from Ward a couple Christmas's earlier. Don't ask me how he got it, for I assume he didn't purchase it. It was likely illegally obtained considering Ward's criminal history and mysterious background...moving on to the point.

Rodrick's TV downstairs was very similar to that of our upstairs widescreen. I was sure that mom and dad would not see the difference or notice it. At least, hopefully…

I got up and went back out to see that Rodrick was gone. About a minute or so later, he trampled up the stairs with a ton of cash and credit cards in hand.

"HUH...Alright you little shit. I've got 500 bucks collected here, so I'm going to Walmart to seek out there unbeatable prices. If I don't find a matching TV there, then I'll head out to Goodwill, with little hope...damn, you really f*cked up this time, kid."

"Wait, Rodrick, you don't have to buy anything! We can just bring up your TV from downstairs and replace it with this one," I recommended. He rubbed his chin and rolled his eyes, seeming to agree with my idea, but not entirely.

"I'm not giving up my screen. No way."

"Rodrick, you have to-"

"NO WAY."

"Please, Rodrick! C'mon. You'll still get to watch TV."

"Pfft. You don't know what _I_ watch, Greg. I've seen movies not even dad would tolerate for his _own_ personal entertainment...if ya get what I mean."

My stomach flipped in disapproval.

"Besides, it's your ass who's in trouble, not _mine_."

"I can tell them that you threw a party! Yeah! If you don't bring your TV up here then I'll tell them! Who are they gonna believe? You have no choice!"

My threat had worked. He dropped his currency and kicked the wall in frustration.

"_Goddammit_...God. Dammit."

I went over to my peeved older bro and gave him a sympathetic pat on the back.

"C'mon, I'll help ya carry it up."

He gloomily shrugged and we headed downstairs. We entered his trashy room and gathered his 38 incher.

I held onto the right end while he held the left.

"Ready? On 3," I said. "1...2...3"

We lifted the not-too-heavy TV and headed for the stairs. Rodrick rudely threatened me yet again.

"Don't drop it you f*ckin' klutz."

"Huh...just keep carrying it up," I frustratingly mumbled back.

We had made it to the top. We carried it over to the empty TV stand which the now broken one was perched on just minutes before, and placed the 'new' one on there.

We hooked the wiring up to the outlet in the back and backed away for proper examination.

"Ya think they'll notice?" Rodrick asked while rubbing his chin.

"I doubt it. They're the same brands and the coloring is similar. We must clean up this mess, though," I replied, then headed over to our supply closet.

Rodrick approached me and told me that he'd clean up the TV and dispose of it. He instructed me to go into the kitchen and clean up the leftover party mess in there.

I went into the kitchen and nearly had a heart attack from seeing someone in there. I had assumed that everyone had left at this point.

Digging in our fridge in nothing but blue boxers was Rodrick's band friend, Ward. He was likely hungover, and seemed to be gathering supplies for a sandwich.

I could see his butt crack and his legs were gorilla-hairy. He was quite an eyesore. I was slightly afraid of him. I couldn't muster up the courage to ask him why he was still there. I fearfully hollered for Rodrick to deal with him.

"RODRICK!"

He walked in seconds later at first rolling his eyes, then fixing them suspiciously on his fat buddy.

"Um, Ward dude, what the hell are ya still doing here? And more importantly, why are you half naked?"

Ward became alert and flung his head around like an alarmed deer would who just got caught by a hunter. His eyes widened, but then drooped almost immediately afterward.

"Ugh, I dunno, man. I guess I woke up kinda late. Huhhhh...Ya don't mind if I make a samwich, do ya?" he asked, severely slurring his words.

Rodrick shrugged. "Fine, but afterwards, you need to get your freaking clothes on and help me clean up our broken TV. My mom and pop are returning in like two hours, so you'll have to be outta here by then, okay?"

Ward bit into his sandwich composed of plenty of odd ingredients, some including mayonnaise, yogurt, jalapenos and egg yolks…

"Uhhh, sure man, but ya see, my clothes are like, all gone and stuff. I woke up over there by the garage door from like which I came. I had FUUUUN last night, dude! Got so f*ckin' high, higher than a f*ckin' bird! A-and drunker than a s-s-skunk!"

Ward then dropped his sandwich, threw up and then passed out.


	4. Thursday-Continued

Thursday (continued)

I gasped at the floored Ward. He has just added on to the already messy mess of the kitchen by dropping his sloppy sandwich on the floor...not to mention the pile of vomit.

"Um! Rodrick…"

"Huh," he sighs. He tosses a roll of paper towel at me.

"Nothing we can do. The guy's over 250, bro. We'll just have to leave him and pray to the questionably existing God up there that he'll be up and atom by the time ma and dad return."

"But, shouldn't we get him to a hospital? He just passed out!" I protested, being as reasonable as I could manage.

"Nah, he passes out all the time, Greg. It's like his hobby."

_His hobby?_ Drinking and getting high 24/7? He was a bigger lowlife than I thought.

"C'mon, Greg, let's clean up this damn TV…" my brother groaned. I went into the living room with gloves, a big garbage bag and a vacuum cleaner to suck up the extra glass shards.

As we cleaned, Rodrick continued to curse me out on "how much of a f*cking klutz I was."

"Shit, Greg...what the hell is wrong with you…"

"Shut up, Rodrick," I threw in getting fed up. "This is your fault, ya know. You were the one who locked me down in the basement all night!"

"Pfft, yeah, you were smitting with my girl!"

"I didn't know she was _your_ girl! We just danced! We had fun! I had fun...I never get to have fun…"

Rodrick sighed and picked up the final shards.

"Whatever, man...let's just get the rest of the house cleaned up, and keep our fingers crossed that mom and dad won't notice anything when they get back…"

Rodrick went into the kitchen to clean up the mess in there while I went upstairs to clean up the apparent mess up there.

The hallway was cluttered with empty bottles, cigarette butts and a large and stretched-out Metallica T-shirt...probably Ward's…

Once I vacuumed up the carpet and recycled all of the bottles, I headed into my room...which was not a pretty sight.

My sheets were ruffled like a Lays potato chip and my pillow was pushed up against the wall. There were more cigarette ends and beer bottles...and condom wrappers on my bed stand.

_Whoa...so is this what high school is like?_ I wondered, while sighing for the mess I had to clean…

Manny's room had been used for uh, recreational purposes as well...Although his bed was twin-sized since he was just six years old and he had posters of Yo Gabba Gabba plastered all over his wall and a display of Care bears on his shelf by the window.

It disgusted me that there were people having sex in there...in my little brothers bedroom...Ugh.

I bagged up the condom wrappers and smokes, then headed to mom and dad's room...that was also ransacked with treasures of the teenage dirt bag.

I took me nearly an hour to spiff up the entire upstairs area, and I'd hoped that Rodrick was just about complete cleaning the downstairs area because mom and dad would be home in less than an hour.

I trudged down the stairs and headed back into the kitchen to see Rodrick cleaning up Ward's vomit, with a very disgruntled and sickened expression.

"Bleh...what a hog...Greg, I need you to get a glass of ice water and dump it on this pig's face."

I filled up a tall glass of tap water then threw in like 5 ice cubes. I was anxious about dumping in on Ward's face though...what if he sprung up and strangled me or something? This guy seemed kind of unstable…

"Rodrick, are you sure I should-"

"Just do it, Greg. I've done it like a billion times before."

I held it over Ward's sullen and pudgy face. His eyes were closed and his tongue was hanging slightly out of his mouth. He was like a passed-out dog...a fat one, that is.

I closed my eyes and slowly tilted my hand and poured the cool water onto him, perhaps too slowly.

I heard gentle splashing on his cheek and a quiet moan indicating that he was disturbed.

"Just dump it on him fast, Greg! A little stream won't cut it! He needs a waterfall wake-up call."

"I-I'm scared, Rod-"

He got up and snatched the glass out of my hand and poured the rest of the half-full glass on his face all in a second, getting him to jolt upwards in shock.

"P-p-p!" he spat. "W-what the hell? Like where am I?"

Rodrick tossed his Metallica shirt down at him that I had brought down from upstairs.

"You're hanging over big time, man. Get up, go find your pants and get out of here. My folks' are gonna be home in like 15 minutes."

Ward staggered upwards and wabbled out of the kitchen. Rodrick sighed and set the glass in the sink then cleaned up the cubes on the floor and leftover water mess.

We were pretty much done. Now we just had to wait for Rodrick's weird friend to leave, for the Loded Diper truck was still parked outside, and mom really disliked Ward. Even more so than dad.

Rodrick threw himself on the couch and groaned with relief. He turned the TV on to make sure it was set up and working correctly.

Ward was still trudging around aimlessly, now irritating both Rodrick and me.

"Dude?! It's time for you to go! I'll meet ya tomorrow at the intersection!" Rodrick scolded from his lazy position on the couch. Ward still only had that T-shirt on.

"I like, can't seem to find my pants, dude...last night is just like, one big blur and stuff."

Rodrick rolled his eyes and got up to help Ward find his pants. After the two, or really just Rodrick, tore up the house looking for size 19 jeans, Rodrick came back into the living room and told me to go outside and look for them.

I didn't want to believe that his pants were _outdoors_, but I had to take up that consideration.

I hurriedly went outside and searched around the yard for a baggy pair of denims. After five minutes, I'd come across them...hanging on top of our basketball hoop, completely out of my reach…

_Oh great...just great…_

I went back inside and told Rodrick that they had been tossed on top of our basketball hoop on the driveway.

He impatiently groaned and followed me back outside.

"WARD!" he hollered. Ward stalked out looking pathetic and nasty.

"How and why?!" Rodrick stammered while flailing his arms towards the jeans folded inside-out atop our fifteen foot hoop.

"UGH...heck if I know, dude…"

Rodrick was around 5'10, I was 5'5 and Ward was...6'1?

"Get it, Ward. NOW," Rodrick ordered, while his lunatic friend remained in his slumped stance confusingly scratching his head and sighing.

"I can't reach that far man…"

"YOU DON'T F*CKIN' SAY?!"

Rodrick stormed into the garage and retrieved a long crow bar, dad's longest.

He shoved it into Ward's limp hand and instructed him to sky fish for it on his tippy toes.

Ward sulkily stood before the hoop and reached his right arm out with the curved end of the bar reached out towards the pants. He 'fished' for them and struggled to unravel them from the hoop.

Rodrick was getting increasingly impatient…

"C'mon dude. They're gonna be here any minute!" Rodrick warned him, while Ward continued to deliberately claw at the entangled jeans up there.

Another few minutes passed before Rodrick groaned and swiped the bar out of his lethargic hand.

"I'll get it, damn!"

He reached up and managed to get the pants onto the curve end of the bar...on the first try. He tossed them at his moronic friend and gave him a nasty glare.

"Uh, thanks du-"

"Just get them on and get out of here!"

Ward shrugged and sluggishly put his trousers on.

"Guess I'll see ya later then…"

"Yeah, go."

Ward got into his truck and started up the engine. He was down the street just as mom and dad returned home.


	5. Friday- August 30

Friday

Both Rodrick and I were very tense. Sure, the house was clean and the idiot was gone, but what if Dad noticed something different about the TV? It was a more light shade of black after all. All we could do was go with the flow.

"Hey boys," Dad said while unloading the car bringing out some groceries. Mom looked relaxed and slightly tanner than the day before.

"Did everything go okay?" Mom asked, being overly concerned as usual, while Dad rolled his eyes and mumbled, "Of course, Susan. They're old enough to watch themselves just fine. I'm sure nothing went askew, huh boys?"

We both nodded simultaneously. Dad nodded knowingly and shut the car door with a few bags in his arms. My stomach knotted up as the two made their way for the door.

Rodrick leaned in close and abruptly grasped my left arm.

"_Just act natural," _he growled in my ear. I returned a both frantic and understanding nod in understanding. We headed in nonchalantly, trying not to look suspicious.

"So, did ya guys have fun?" Rodrick asked, with a tad of edginess in his tone, though they suspected nothing out of the ordinary about it.

"Oh, yes. It was definitely worth the pay. There was a spa with mud baths and -"

"Nice, Ma. That's great," Rodrick cut in, seeming to lose some of his cool.

My eyes were now glued to Dad with caution as he exited the entryway and headed into the living room.

Rodrick was also anticipating nervously. What if he did somehow notice? How would we explain ourselves? Well, this was technically Rodrick's fault...so he was up for the blame.

We waited. That was all we could do. About a minute passed and the TV was on, and Dad was watching it, presumably. We didn't any "what the heck's?!" or "BOY'S! GET IN HERE!" so we assumed that all was cool.

And even though all was cool, Rodrick didn't hesitate to grasp my upper arm with the strength of a grizzly and growl, "looks like you're off the hook … for _now_."

Arrogant jerk! _Like_ he wouldn't be in for it too if Dad would have noticed something askew! This was all his fault anyways…

But it was time to forget about this unfortunate experience and move on … to Rowley's house. I was due for a gaming session with my decent, eh, _slightly_ decent buddy.

….

I waited patiently at his door after I had rung his doorbell a few times. I figured that they were home since their car was parked at the driveway. It was a new Prius, and it was far more nifty than our old Station Wagon.

After a few more rings and another long minute, my chubby and usually very jolly friend answered the door.

I smiled and presented the game I'd brought, _Call of Duty: Ghosts_.

"Ya ready for gaming?" I asked, as chipper as I could manage. Her frowned and crossed his arms.

"Huh, I wish I could, Greg, but my parents are teaching me about the, uh ...birds and bees today. They told me that 'recreational activities' were out of the question today…"

I blushed. Boy, I didn't realize his parents were such ...morons. Cancelling out his entire day just to give him a pep on how babies are made? Fortunately, my dad gave me 'The Talk' just before I started seventh leaned in close, "Don't even _think_ about getting a girl pregnant before marriage, unless you want to learn the true meaning of havoc. I refuse to be a grandfather of 39 years." I nodded in assurance. That was all he told me. I'm assuming that he told Rodrick a similar thing, considering he wasn't a dad yet.

"Yup, it sucks...I don't even get to see a picture of a naked girl, just diagrams from my mom's health book and an old sex ed clip from the 70's...Wanna join me?"

NO!

"Em, that's okay, Rowley, I'll just, uh, see ya later, I guess."

He frowned. "Well, okay, then…" he sighed defeatedly then closed the door.

I was left to face a day of uncertainty, and a summer of boringness…

….

**Fast-forward 3 months:**

So that was the story of what occurred the week before Rodrick was to graduate, though he didn't anyways. School is starting this Monday on September 2nd. Dad had a serious talk with me this morning at the dining table.

"Now, listen, Greg. I don't want you to end up like your brother. I want you to have a great life after high school. I want you to get good grades, and I want you to really achieve things in life. Set goals for yourself, and follow them. Study hard, and remain positive. Start thinking about college and what you want to be when you grow up." He sighed and massaged his temples. "Dear God, don't turn out like your brother...your mom's _still_ crying about it..._Please_, Gregory, do the right things, and make the right choices."

He stood from his position across from me and came my way. He rested his hand on my shoulder.

"Make us proud."

I had to do just that. I couldn't be a junkie moron like my pathetic, white trash brother, Rodrick.

That meant no partying, no drinking, no drugs, and no doing anything _cool_ whatsoever. It would be tempting, but Dad was right. I had to have some authority. I had to make something of myself. Not just a druggie who played in an underrated band at various bars on Saturdays…

….

I am nervous for high school. Very very very nervous. Rodrick warned me about being a Freshman. He told me that they are bullied and hazed on a regular basis, especially the guys. He patted my shoulder sympathetically/mockingly and told me to expect a head dunk in a toilet bowl on the first day, or at least some time during the first week. He warned me of the heinous Upperclassmen, and how they loathe the 'freshies' to a crisp. I don't know if he was just joking around with me or not, but I am scared nonetheless…

Well, I've got three more day to 'enjoy', so heres to them, and a dread for this coming Monday. Till then, I guess.

~_August 30_


	6. Monday- September 2nd

Monday

I just got off the bus. It was my first day of my high school career….It was somewhat frightening indeed. Just being a freshman made me feel all queasy inside. God, I'm the freaking runt of the bunch. Well, me and about 300 other kids that is...Huh, let me give ya the monologue:

~ I woke up this morning at 6:30am, a half hour earlier than my previous time of waking, for middle school started a bit later in the morning. My alarm scared the bejesus out of me, for having not been used to hearing the loud thing go off for the past three months. Yuck, I hate wake up calls, of any kind, whether it be my Dad's scolding or my obnoxious alarm. Ugh…

It was something new alright, and 'new' was the word of today, ya know, since I'm now a freshman and all.

I had gone to bed last night at almost 11, in a desperate attempt to really 'Live Out' the rest of the summer. I was playing Minecraft when Dad stormed in and retorted, "Lights out, Greg! Tomorrow's the first day of the rest of your life!"

I sloppily smacked my left hand down onto the 'Snooze' button and groggily came to my senses, or at least, I tried to. I rubbed my eyes and stared blankly at my dark ceiling that was ten(+) feet above me as I laid on my mattress. I kept inadvertently closing my eyes and snoozing off back into much needed slumber, only to hear my deafening alarm buzz away again, jolting me out of my gaze.

"_UGH!"_

I pressed my pillow tightly over my head and desired more sleep. That was interrupted when Mom swung by my room and chanted, "time to get up, honey. It's your first day of high school!" I chucked my pillow to the floor and sluggishly came to my feet. I returned a fake smile to Mom before she took off back down the hallway. I went into my bathroom and gazed into my mirror. Well, heres to adolescence, I guess… I gaped at the small pimple that I had spotted on my chin - it had to go. I was having pictures taken that day, and the last thing I needed was a red boil to flaunt as recognition for my first year in high school. I may laugh about it when I'm forty, but until then, I have shame!

I leaned in real close to my mirror and began to squeeze, and with success, the pimple vanquished, (I won't give explicit details) and all that was left was a small pink mark that would likely clear up in an hour, give or take.

After using the toilet I glanced at my shower. Was it even worth it? I'd been foretold that my head would be getting submerged in toilet water that day anyhow by the raucous Uppers of the school. It was inevitable.

Well, I might as well go for it, I figured, wanting to at least look and smell nice upon arrival. Hopefully my head wouldn't be meeting any toilet bowls until _at least _third period, with a strong cross of the fingers…

After (pointlessly) showering, I put on my new red T shirt and tan khaki shorts. I wanted to appear at least _neutral_ for the first day in the Big House. I put on some Axe deodorant and body spray, to perhaps attract the ladies ;) A guy's gotta try!

When I went downstairs it was 7:04, my bus would be at the Stop in fifteen minutes. I had no appetite whatsoever, considering my prevalent hyperventilation and tenseness. Mom insisted otherwise, however.

"Greg, sweetie, you need to eat at least something. You'll need the extra energy until lunch."

I rolled my eyes. "Mom, I'm really not hungry. At all."

She raised her eyebrow, then warmly smiled and perched her hands on her bathrobed hips. "Oh, I see...of course, you're nervous about your first day."

"No, no I'm not…" I lied. She approached me and wrapped her gentle and motherly arms around me, as if to provide comfort.

"It's okay, Greg, just have fun and get good grades! Now, I want you to have some cereal at least, okay? You'll thank me later."

_If I survive…_

"Um, fine, I guess." I sat down at the dining table. I was thankful that Rodrick wasn't there to harass me. My last visit with the douche didn't go so well. All he did was 'warn' me of the terrors and neglect a ninth grader has to go through on a daily basis, for we will be the prey for the wild UC. I would just have to hope that guidance counselors were abundant on every school corner if things got too hectic…

…

My feet were already carrying me outside just seven minutes after that conversation with Mom. I don't like to admit this kind of thing, but she, as always, kissed me goodbye...meh. So the sun had just barely risen as I made my way down my street to the end of the sidewalk where the Bus stop was. My stomach turned when I noticed that not only was my odd friend Rowley already there, looking like a dork, BTW, with his baggy shorts pulled up to his dang navel and a black V-neck tee along with it, then the red high tops for shoes...Ugh, oh, the B slash slash slash slash it was gonna be to hang around with him on the first day...Then there was also Fregley waiting giddily next to Rowley, appearing to be 'anecdoting' my friend with a tale of his likely grotesque and outlandish summer.

Great, now I had to approach these two morons! Hmm, _maybe_ not. _Maybe _I could just sneak around the fence and walk to school, but I'd have to be swift to make sure that neither of them would see m-

"GRRREEG! DUUUUUUUUDE! YAY! Come over here, man! Wait with us!" my overly excited friend, Rowley hollered from our distance of presumably 40 feet. I wanted to facepalm sooo bad, I can't even tell you. I sighed with defeat and trudged on over to the two, excuse me, _losers_.

I was immediately embraced upon arrival by Rowley. The tightness of his hug ridiculous, since we'd just seen one another a mere four days earlier for the last gaming session on his X-Box 360. I felt like I was suffocating from the pressure and my bones were being crushed. We may have been around the same height, but he had quite a bit of weight on me, probably over forty pounds to be entirely frank.

I weakly hugged him in return, my head over his left shoulder so I could get a clear view of weird-ass Fregley picking his nose and smiling blissfully. He then topped off his nasty antic by popping his finger out of his right nostril and inserting it into his mouth, then *gags* slowly and deliberately sucking away at his mucus-covered finger as if it were a tootsie pop. Sorry for giving you that visual…

To make matters worse I was still firmly held in Rowley's thick arms when off in the distance I noticed my crush of three years, Holly Hills, making her way over towards us with her two best friends. Her appearance luminous as ever, and devastatingly attractive at that. Her long blond hair was down and free, and she was clothed with a lovely satin blouse, V-neck, I might add, and a knee-length blue skirt, her legs bare and getting my full dumbstruck gaze... Christ! No, no, she couldn't see me _like this!_

"Off now, Row!" I mustered while giving him a harsh shove away from me, only to receive a pathetic pout in response.

"Heyyy...what was that fo-"

I shoved him around to give him his answer. He understood immediately. He too felt a little infatuated with the about-to-be most popular freshman girl, Holly Hills, as well. He kept his fat yap shut, cos she was purdy!

"Oooh, wowzers…" he grumbled, while I stepped a few long feet away from him. She was now just twenty feet away. I was panicking.

"Just act normal, you two!" I scolded, while Rowley had on his dopey poker face and Fregley's finger was up the other nostril digging for more doubloons. I couldn't hold back my facepalm now. This was just too much.

The three hot girls stopped near us, but not really _by_ us, for, well, obvious and unfortunate reasons. I didn't blame them. Who would want to stand near cootie-infested Fregs, or chubby and overly jolly Rowley, or, or _me_. Just lame Greg Heffley, B average student, not too tall and socially awkward. The three of us make a pack of pure loser.

They stood and chatted away on the other side of the bus stop sign while the six of us waited for our bus, which would hopefully be arriving very soon. I could hear Rowley pant nervously as he stood four feet away from me. It was irksome to say the least, I'll tell you that. Another minute passed and he continued to gawk at the unknowing girls feet away from us, his vociferous heaves accelerating big time.

"Rowley..._Rowley!_" I growled, trying to get his distracted attention. Lord, was that _drool _I spotted on his cheek? Not even I could get that far into staring down a pretty dame; Rowley was just...intense.

"Wha-what? What?" He finally broke that odd gaze off of them and turned his attention to me.

"Don't be a moron. Just act natural! Can or can you not do that?!"

Rowley put on a smug grin. "I can, but can _he?_"

He was of course referring to Fregley, who at this point had his right hand down the front of his pants, itching, just itching away…

It was bound to be a _long_ first day…

…

Rowley and I sat in the far back of the bus like we had done in previous years. We were the first ones on. The three preppy and attractive girls sat way up in the front, of course wanting to stay as far away from any of us as possible. Thirty seconds had ticked on and Fregley hadn't come on the bus, and the rest of us were already seated. Not that I really cared whether or not the weirdo would be getting on, in fact, I preferred him to stay off, for last year I'd undergone an unfortunate incident when he rode the bus with me. I was sitting in the middle seats in the middle of the bus when I had suddenly felt something latch on to the back of my ankles. I was scared crapless. I yelled out in fear, thinking that some psychotic killer was loose on the bus, when really the psycho was just Fregley who was hiding beneath my seat. Upon figuration and revealment of who my 'ankle grasper' was, he still continued to do so until we got to school. Might I mention that he had nibbled on the backs while I fought to free them. I didn't ride the bus for weeks after that.

Well, nearly two full minutes ticked on and the freak still hadn't come onto the bus. I looked up front to notice that the driver had seemed to be frustratingly mustering something, his head turned to the right looking out the door. Then I heard him holler, "c'mon, kid, I don't have all day!"

Then after another long ten seconds, the wacko had finally climbed into the bus with is arm raised high in the air and a toothy grin plastered on his face. His index finger was pointing upwards, the others bent into his palm, and he appeared to be holding something very small on the end of his lone finger.

"I got it!" he shouted, then took a seat that was thankfully a good six seats up from where Rowley and I were seated. Ah yes, he had been participating in one of his favorite activities aside from nose picking and crotch scratching: pulling wads of chewed gum up from the cement then chewing it himself... Bleh radar: **off the charts**.

After our apparently moody driver had gruffly sighed, the door slammed shut and we took off onto the next street. Along the way, I couldn't help but notice that our seat was vigorously shaking. I looked over at Rowley who was sitting on the window side to see that he was shaking uncontrollably.

"Um, are you cool, Rowley?" I asked. Well, he was never cool in popularity terminology but I was implying that term in another direction.

"N-n-no, G-g-greg, I'm n-nervous f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-for high s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-school."

Apparently, he was more nervous than myself. "I am too, Rowley. Just last week my brother, Rodrick warned us about the 'Freshman Hazing' that we have to endure. Huh, said that chances were that we were going to have our heads dunked into the toilet bowl on the first day, or at least-"

He didn't take that news lightly. He began to sob. "NO! Not a swirlie! Oh gosh, Greg! Oh my gosh!"

Great.

"Shh, shut - shut up, Rowley! It's okay! I doubt that anything's gonna happen, anyway…"

He continued to sniffle pathetically as the bus came to a screeching halt. So, it was one of _those_ bus drivers, the kind who drove too fast and honked obnoxiously if you wouldn't watch for his hand signal before crossing the street, not to mention the strong cigarette essence that hit my nostrils once I'd stepped into the bus, for he had apparently engaged in smoking before his routes were to be hit. A moody sourpuss, I disliked his kind.

Around ten more kids got on before we took off again, to probably hit another stop or two before heading to _gulp_ the big school.

Rowley was still shaking pretty bad aside me, and for good reason. What if we were hazed right upon arrival? Ugh, it made my stomach knot up at the thought of it. Rowley and I would really have to be careful, and be sure to watch each others backs all through that day. Though, I wasn't even sure if I had any classes with him, for we still had to pick up our schedules in the main office, wherever the heck that was. I just hoped that we'd at least make it to school on time.

We finally pulled up to Westmore high school five minutes later. I checked the time on my ipod touch, and it was 7:31, so classes would be starting in fourteen minutes. When Rowley and I got off the bus we were faced with the biggest school I'd be attending until college. We both gulped simultaneously.

"Well, this is it," I declared, while Rowley remained speechless aside me. We were both frozen in our place on the curb, the entrance to the new environment was a good fifty feet away. Packs of students were going in, herds at a time. I had Rowley by my side, but I knew that I'd have to fend for myself if anything went wrong, for Rowley had the agility and combat skills of your average 85 year old man.

"Now or never, friend. Let's go." I patted his back and encouraged him to walk forth with me, and he slowly and cautiously did so.

"Class of 2017…" he mumbled, trying to be enthusiastic, but failing miserably. I understood.


End file.
